The Travis County D.A.'s office, remember, is prosecuting Mr. Perry, our former governor, for alleged crimes associated with the exercise of his veto power over taxpayer money for -- wait for the punch line --

July 28, 2015

I'm reminded by Harper's magazine of April 1975, a delightful find among my collection of ancient magazines as I burrow through them, one by one, and consign them to the trash or ebay.

The cover story is Mr. Wolfe's "The Painted Word," an excerpt from a book of the same name published later that year. It is a takedown, tart and delicious, of modern art and modern art critics. I'll give you an excerpt below, but first read . . .

July 27, 2015

WHEN THE LEFT cannot defeat Republican politicians at the ballot box, it regularly resorts to lawfare -- taxpayer-funded civil lawsuits and criminal prosecutions -- to try to drive them from office or punish them. The model in Texas was the prosecution of former House Speaker Tom Delay. Many years and millions of dollars later, he beat the rap, every last element of it.

Prosecutors were humiliated, legally speaking, but triumphant politically. Our own Houston Chronicle -- after years of cheerleading from the sidelines -- lacked the grace to cover Mr. DeLay's exoneration honestly or to consider its own moral culpability for supporting such an egregious abuse of the legal system. Mr. DeLay was still a bad man, newspaper editors muttered sourly.

The latest abuse of the Texas legal system to hurt a political adversary, of course, is the case of former Governor Rick Perry's threatened and actual veto of state funds for the Travis County District Attorney's office. That office is now retaliating with charges designed to hurt the former Texas governor's campaign for the Republication nomination for president.

Friday, however, a state appeals court threw out one of the two charges against Mr. Perry. The Chronicle properly put the story on page one of today's newspaper and wrote a righteous headline: "Appeals court tosses charge in victory for Perry."

But the Chronicle hates Rick Perry and could not bring itself to do a straightforward story on Mr. Perry's legal and moral victory. The subhead and the story (by Peggy Fikac, who is smart and talented and should know better) do all that can be done to turn Mr. Perry's lemonade into a lemon.

The subhead, not the headline, tells what the story is really about, in the eyes of the Chronicle: "But cloud of one criminal indictment still hangs over the former governor."

The lemonade-to-lemon pivot comes in the first paragraph:

AUSTIN -- A state appeals court on Friday tossed out one of the abuse-of-power counts against Rick Perry, giving the former Texas governor a significant legal victory . . .

Let's stop here. That's the real story. When a defendant in a politically motivated criminal case wins a round, the newspaper should say so -- as it does -- then promptly explain the court's reasoning, then give a few grafs to the winner and his attorneys, then quote the loser, then add whatever additional perspective might be appropriate. Such as, for example, the fact that Mr. Perry is still exposed to one criminal count.

Instead, that last topic -- Mr. Perry's continuing legal and political peril -- is jacked up to the top of the inventory of topics. Here's the rest of the lede paragraph:

. . . but leaving a cloud of a criminal indictment over him as he seeks the Republican nomination for president.

For the miserable Houston Chronicle, that's the real story. Not that Mr. Perry won a battle but that he hasn't yet won the war. By paragraph, here are snips and summaries of the Chronicle's politicized and journalistically and morally challenged view of how to cover this story.

Paragraph 2. "The fact that a charge remains does not help the former governor." This should have been a description of the thrown-out charge. And while it is dog-bites-man to say that having a remaining charge "does not help the former governor" (duh), the real story is that having one charge thrown out does help the former governor. That, dear Ms. Fikac and dear editors, is the political angle to this story. But the political angle is and should be subsidiary, in this story, to the legal angle.

Paragraph 3. Political scientist Mark Jones: "He still faces a potential trial for abuse of official capacity." This should have been an explanation of why the court threw out the charge. Instead, the piling on continues.

Paragraph 4. "Perry's lawyers were considerably less restrained." The Perry response could have come before or after the background information. Here it is introduced with a snippy tone, designed to characterize their statement (by its alleged lack of restraint) before it is reported and designed to create a context to show readers that Perry's lawyers are, in some sense, deluded.

Paragraph 5. "'One down, one to go,' Perry lawyer Anthony Buzbee said Friday, predicting a solid win at the next level of appeals." Mr. Buzbee than goes on to say that "this" -- whatever "this" may refer to (the thrown-out charge? the remaining charge? something else?) "will have no impact" on Mr. Perry's presidential campaign. Furthermore, the paragraph jumps after five words to Page A4, guaranteeing that material favorable to Mr. Perry will not be seen by casual readers.

Paragraphs 6 and 7. Having exhausted itself giving Perry's side a couple of sentences, the Chronicle then resumes its piling on. These remarkable paragraphs are so absurd in their content and so woefully misplaced in the story that they deserve quoting in full:

Special prosecutor Michael McCrum took issue with Buzbee's "one down, one to go" statement, calling it "flippant" and "disrespectful" to the grand jury that indicted Perry.

"It's not high school football playoffs," he said. "The court has found that he should proceed to trial for a crime he has allegedly committed while in office."

If Mr. Buzbee is "flippant" and "disrespectful" for celebrating a legal victory over a prosecutor and grand jury who got the law wrong, what might we say about a prosecutor's possibly "flippant" and "disrespectful" attitude toward he rule of law, in pushing a legal theory that could not survive a pre-trial appeal?

Time demands that I move on from this blog post to real life, but here's a quick review of the rest of the story: Paragraph 8 (given to Mr. McCrum, the loser, whose quotes vastly outnumber those of the winner's side); Paragraph 9 (the same: all McCrum all the time); Paragraph 10 (at long last, background information on the case); Paragraph 11 (procedural history, introduced with this snide comment: "After repeatedly failing to get the two-count indictment dismissed . . . ."); Paragraph 12 (a summary of the appeals court's reasoning about the charge that was not dismissed, not about the charge that was dismissed) . . .

I'll interrupt myself here to say that in an appallingly bad and dishonest piece of journalism, it's hard to top Paragraph 12. Moving on.

. . . Paragraph 13 (at long last, the court's reasoning on why Perry won dismissal of one charge, a paragraph that belonged on page one); Paragraph 14 (Perry can still appeal the one remaining charge, also worthy of higher placement in the story); Paragraph 15 (more procedural stuff); Paragraph 16 (McCrum's [!] characterization of the remaining charge); Paragraph 17 (Perry's lawyer quoted a second time, finally stating the essence of Mr. Perry's defense ("[It] raises the question of whether the exercise of a veto can ever be illegal in the absence of bribery.") Good question, one the Chronicle should bother itself to answer on the editorial page.); Paragraph 18 (more, woefully overdue, from Perry's lawyer); Paragraph 19 (the Good Guy, McCrum, again, defending the remaining count); Paragraph 20 (more McCrum); Paragraph 21 (more McCrum); Paragraph 22 (background on Perry's characterization of his actions, overdue); Paragraph 23 (the story finally gets around, way overdue, to the arrest of the Travis County D.A. for drunken driving); Paragraph 24 (background); Paragraph 25 (how a progressive political group ("an Austin-based government watchdog," according to the Chronicle) complained about Governor Perry and set in motion the witch hunt (my words) that led to the indictments); Paragraph 26 ("Perry and his supporters have suggested the case was politically motivated." Really? Ya think?); Paragraph 27 (quotation from a pro-Perry political group, not honored by the Chronicle as a "government watchdog"); Paragraph 28 (more, finally, from a pro-Perry commentator); Paragraphs 29 and 30 (background on how the Travis County District Attorney's office has been stripped of its power to conduct similar witch hunts (my words) in the future).

On this story, the Chronicle performed -- as Glenn Reynolds often puts it -- as Democratic operatives with a by-line. The story violated elementary principles of traditional journalism. It was dishonest. Shame yet again on the Houston Chronicle.

. . . Rick Perry. I'll explain why some other time. My money, literally, is on the other Rick, Walker. If Mr. Walker drops out, there are other candidates I would still prefer over Mr. Perry.

But our former governor recently gave one of the finest speeches I've heard from any presidential aspirant this year. It was about race. In spirit, it was the speech the first black president should have given. But Mr. Obama didn't give, and couldn't have given, a speech this fine.

Here's a snip that has been widely quoted, but is worth repeating:

I'm running for president because I want to make life better for all people, even those who don't vote Republican. I know Republicans have much to do to earn the trust of African Americans.

July 24, 2015

GREECE IS AN INTERNATIONAL DEADBEAT. The government and people of Greece believe passionately in living beyond their means. And on borrowed money they have no real intention of repaying. (The present "austerity" legislation will prove to be a ruse: what must be said (but not necessarily done) to keep the money flowing.)

Which raises a question: Which state in the United States is most like Greece? Well, now we have an answer. And the award goes to . . .

To a surprising extent [ liberals and conservatives] agree upon the central elements of the regulator crimes: inflation of costs to consumers; encouragement of inefficiency in critical sectors of the economy; the stifling of innovation; the corruption of the political and administrative forces in our economy.

The consensus is long past. The left today prefers rule by the administrative state over self-government.

Page 38. Andrew Sarris, "The Myth of Old Movies."

Until very recently the experience of moviegoing was mercifully free of the stigma of culture. There were no courses on the subject, no obligations, and no imperatives. We went to the movies and we came back home. The movies themselves came and went and almost never returned. Old movies, like old cars, were products for capitalistic consumption, to be discarded for newer models that supposedly had all the latest improvements in design and technology.

. . . .

. . . . Old movies are a precious heritage, and, properly decoded, they tell us more than we may want to acknowledge about the true fantasies of human nature. It is also well for the modernists in our midst to remember that all our spankingly brand-new movies will soon -- too soon -- be old movies.

Politicians have many virtues that ignorant people take for vices. The principal ones are: (1) compromise of principle; (2) egotism; (3) mediocrity. In other men these may be vices; but for a politicians they are needed skills -- so much so that, if a politician is not born with them, he must learn them; and if he does not learn them, he will either fail himself or do harm to others, as Eugene McCarthy did.

. . . .

Of course there are occasions when a politician must compromise, and therefore does. So do we all. . . . The real test of a politician comes when he does not have to compromise, yet finds a way to do so.

. . . .

It is no accident that most of our politicians were educated as lawyers. Of the fourteen Presidents in this century [through Gerald Ford], only four have not been lawyers -- Harding, Hoover, Truman, and Eisenhower. . . .

. . . .

[The] critics of the lawyer background shared by so many of our politicians are dead wrong. No better training could be found for them. . . .

. . . .

It is widely believed that men become politicians to enrich themselves or to wield power. They are not above such considerations, because none of us is. But neither are they signally vulnerable to them. Most politicians have the gifts -- ambition, education, industry obsequiousness -- to make money in any pursuit, and most could in fact make more money outside politics.

. . . .

The politician's ego is a very specialized instrument. It is insatiable, yet yielding -- to get what it wants it will do many tasks not only difficult but demeaning. . . .

. . . .

People who do not have that particular kind of ego do not get into politics, or are soon forced out. . . .

. . . .

The old saying was that anybody could grow up to become President in America. That was a lie for most of the populace -- women, blacks, Indians, Jews, Catholics, the uneducated, the poor. It was also an insult -- most Americans are too bright, or quirky, or interesting to be politicians. On the other hand, not every politicians is born mediocre. Some have learned to be. It is not easy.

. . . . Eugene McCarthy spent a good deal of time trying to prove he was too good for politics. But of what use is that? Most of us are too good for politics; but we do not make a career of demonstrating it.

. . . .

. . . . I speak with no irony when I say [politicians] have constructive faults. They old lament is familiar: Quantula sapientia mudus regitur. How ignorantly we are ruled. That misses the point. There is no other way we could be ruled representatively. Virtue and brilliance are uncommon, volatile, distrusted. We need men we can trust.

Mr. Wills whiffed when he said he said it was a lie that Catholics and blacks could be president. Soon enough we will have a woman president. That's amusing.

What's comforting about Mr. Wills's thesis, however, is that the believes the purpose of American government is to "be ruled representatively."

I spoke first. "Sir Winston, I am a writer, and I want to be a better writer. I know know much you were influenced by Gibbon and The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. . . . Have you another writer you especially recommend?"

Churchill removed his cigar. His voice was only slightly slurred. He said one word, and then turned to address himself to another houseguest, who happened to be the Archbishop of York. The word he said was Kinglake.

. . . .

I read Eothen with joy, and put it down saying, "Good old Winnie." A couple of years later, I found myself alone with Churchill one night after dinner at La Capponcina . . . . I reminded him of our earlier conversation, told him how much I felt enriched by Eothen, and asked him to recommend other reading. Churchill's first lesson had been concluded in a single word. This time he was twice as expansive. What he said was "More Kinglake."

. . . .

I told [Lord] Beaverbrook the story of the Kinglake incident. Beaverbrook's wonderful monkeylike face softened in the manner that wen far to explain his lifelong success with women. . . . In his harsh Scots-Canadian accent, he yelled, "Ah, that Winston!" and slapped his thigh. "The old son of a gun! He thinks he discovered Kinglake. I know who told him about Kinglake, because I was there. It was Rudyard Kipling." Beat that.

Mr. Wiliamson, a writer for National Review -- a sharp intake of breath is appropriate here -- takes down "the first-string [movie] critics for the organs of Northeastern liberal humanism" for their ecstatic reception of Robert Altman's overrated movie, Nashville.

[These critics] were . . . positively delighting in the spectacle of all the grotesque evils that they and their followers have always claimed to perceive in American life: evils which they had insisted caused them much personal anguish but which, they were now as good as admitting, actually can afford them much sophisticated mirth. One would have expected them to agree with the indictment of American society that Altman makes in Nashville; what one would not have expected was that they would revel in it. But revel they did, and with all the happy enthusiasm of people who are far more delighted by the prospect of seeing vindicated their diagnosis of the conditions that supposedly give them pain than they would have been by seeing those condition ameliorated. Of a sudden, whole crowds of critics of the American way of life tacitly exhibited themselves as people who condemned life in these United States less in the spirit of mea culpa -- though they in the past have thoroughly enjoyed the self-congratulatory pleasures of that stance -- than in the smug spirit of a closet superiority to which they would never forthrightly admit.Nashville -- a movie filled with the most hackneyed criticisms of American life -- gave such people the chance to say, "I told you so" . . . .

Mr. Williamson's critique of leftist movie reviewers in 1975 would fit today without much alteration as a critique of the editorial board of The Houston Chronicle, which regards Houston and Texas with roughly the same disdain as these ancients felt -- and their cultural descendants still feel, even more passionately -- for America.

. . . .

. . . . It used to be that critics of manners, mores, and the national culture came frequently from the conservative corral: one thinks of Henry Adams, of H.L. Mencken, of T.S. Eliot, of the elder John Dos Passos. But beginning in the 1930s and continuing into the 1960s and '70s, the drift of cultural criticism moved almost exclusively in the direction of the Left. The reason for this is probably simple enough: left-wing ideologies tend to be all-embracing, so that their many indictments of society ultimately converge as one. Back in the 1920s, you could denounce American civilization as vulgar and stupid without feeling compelled to call for the demolition of Congress. But this is no longer so, and hence many conservative writers hesitate either to jump on the vulgar agglomeration of midcult Americanos or to countenance attacks on it by others; they sense that to denounce the way Americans comport themselves is to denounce the economic and political systems under which they live, and thus to invite the marauding of the armies of the Left.

Harper's of 1975 was a brilliant magazine, lively, well-written, entertaining, and open to all sorts of ideas. Magazines today are, by and large, dull mirrors of the approved ideas of the American left. So with The Houston Chronicle, whose opinion list includes not one -- not one -- local conservative on politics, policy, economics, religion, or culture. To put it another way, not one traditional Texan. Shame, again and yet again, on the Chronicle.